


counting petals

by aesynthi



Category: My Passion, My Passion (Minecraft Roleplay)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Baby (My Passion), F/F, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lesbian Sugar (My Passion), One Shot, also im sorry theres so much oc stuff ik nobody wants that lol, author doesn't know what good pacing is, author starts plotlines and doesn't finish them by the end :), but we aren't allowed to curse which made this 1000x harder dsfhandsf, for a contest, no beta we die like men, obscure fandom babey, tw for blood/coughing/general angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesynthi/pseuds/aesynthi
Summary: Then tell me why it hurts so much? Tell me why,Sugar thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. But in place of the words, she feels a tingle in the back of her throat. She coughs heavily into her hand. When she pulls away, there’s a single yellow petal. An iris.





	counting petals

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! this is for the foxysisters' fanfic competition for their minecraft roleplay musical, "my passion"  
> i'm not at all satisfied with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy!

 

The shrill sound of the bell is left behind in the hallway as Sugar dashes through the door and slides into her seat, just a moment before the teacher arrives. She tries to conceal her panting by rooting around through her backpack for her English notebook, not wanting to alert the Mr. Abertali of her tardiness, and glares as her best friend, Baby, gives her a knowing look. It’s not _her_ fault she had to stay behind in her last class to clean up other kids’ messes, okay? Despite this, though, she’s in a good mood today and turns to face the front of the class with little actual bitterness.

“Today, we’ll begin reading Romeo and Juliet!” Mr. Abertali announces. “This unit, we will be doing a group project analyzing the text. You will be in groups of three to five…” Sugar blocks him out as he prattles on about the project, hoping she can ask a classmate for the details later. Instead, she watches Baby, who is furiously writing something in a pink notebook. _Cute_ , she thinks distractedly, only to nearly jump out of her seat when she hears the teacher call her name for attendance. The way he says it, loudly, with a tinge of annoyance, makes her think this isn’t the first time he’s said it.

“Sorry, here!” she says, straightening when she notices the prickle of eyes on her back.

“Right,” he says. “You’ll be reading for Romeo,” he informs her before continuing onto the next student. She slouches back into her seat, relieved but excited to be reading a lead role. A few minutes later, after a kid with scruffy black hair has passed out scripts to everyone in the class, Mr. Abertali instructs everyone to open to the first page. He reads the prologue out loud as all the students follow along.

“ _Two households, both alike in dignity,_

_In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,_

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,_

_Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean._

_From forth the fatal loins of these two foes_

_A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;_

_Whole misadventured piteous overthrows_

_Do with their death bury their parents’ strife._

_The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,_

_And the continuance of their parents’ rage,_

_Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,_

_Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;_

_The which if you with patient ears attend,_

_What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend._ ”

And the first scene begins, each student reading their lines in turn. Sugar puts forth her best effort acting when she enters part way through scene I, though everyone’s seated, and she doubts anyone really cares. Her boredom grows in intervals between her lines as she listens to classmates drone on. That is, until they enter scene III. And, wow, she really should have paid attention during role, because the air feels like it’s been knocked out of her lungs when she hears Baby’s voice speaking Juliet’s first line, “Hey now! Who calls?”

Really, it shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it feels, but that’s how it always is anyway. Because it’s _Baby_ , and when is it not a big deal when you _have a massive crush on your best friend._ Anyway, she proceeds to have a minor panic realizing she and Baby will have to act out romantic scenes. And, most likely, she would continue to think herself into a pretzel if she didn’t have lines to read. Thank god for that, she guesses. But regardless, she _does_ manage to overthink for the next 40 minutes of class they spend reading through the first act until she’s forced to get up to form a group for the project.

She already knows she and Baby will be part of a group by the look they share after Mr. Abertali collects the scripts and tells them to find group members, but she has to look around for a bit to decide who else will join their group. After a minute, she spots a quiet kid sitting near the back corner of the room. She nods to Baby, as if to say “I got this,” and walks over to them. “Hey, I’m Sugar. You wanna join our group?” She jabs her thumb over her shoulder back at Baby before holding out her hand to the teen, who she can now see has tan skin and a half-shaved head of fading dyed-red hair. They eye her hand with trepidation, but take it with a shrug and a low mumble of “sure.” Almost as an afterthought, they add, “I’m Bex.”

 _Well, that doesn’t help on the androgyny front_ , Sugar thinks, still debating in her head whether or not to ask what their pronouns are. In the end, she figures eventually she’ll find a way to figure it out, and walks over to Baby, who has a short, chubby girl with deep brown skin and thick dreads tied up into a lopsided ponytail standing next to her. Sugar wracks her brain for the girl’s name, knowing she’s heard it before. “You’re…” the girl opens her mouth, but Sugar remembers just before she begins to speak. “Cameron! Right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. You can just call me Cam, though,” she responds with a small smile.

“Cool! And this,” Sugar turns around, assuming Bex to have followed her, but no one’s standing where she looks, and Bex isn’t anywhere in sight. “Huh… I don’t know where they went. Oops. I guess I’ll have to find them later and get their number. But yeah, I found our fourth group member, name’s Bex.” With the few minutes left of class, Baby and Sugar get Cam’s number and make a group chat for their project, promising to organize a time to work on it outside of class. They’re all out the door just as the bell rings, heading their separate ways to their lockers for the next period.

——————————

The next class, the first thing Sugar notices when she walks into the classroom is the substitute teacher sitting at the desk in the front of the room. The sub is a nondescript woman who looks to be around 40 or so. Sugar looks around to see everyone else sitting as usual and makes her way to her desk. The bell rings after a few minutes, and the sub (who introduces herself as Ms. Rictar) calls for everyone’s attention and begins role. By the time she finishes, Sugar’s already zoning out again and starting at Baby. Again. Still, she manages to catch the threads of an explanation that Mr. Abertali is on temporary leave for personal reasons and won’t be back for around a month, so Ms. Rictar will be their substitute for the duration of his absence. Which is fine, considering she never really liked Mr. Abertali anyway.

A student passes out scripts as Ms. Rictar reads Mr. Abertali’s instructions to her aloud to the class. By the time she’s finished, everyone has a script and she instructs them to begin reading with the same roles as last class. They pick up at the beginning of Scene 5 (where Romeo and Juliet first meet), and Sugar finds herself looking up at Baby as she speaks her first line. Baby sees her and turns her head to smile at her, and it’s too much. It’s _way_ too much, even if she’s totally overreacting. Sugar almost considers asking to go to the bathroom, but she doesn’t want to cause a scene. So she continues to read, managing to conceal the minor tremor in her voice, until the class is excused to gather in groups and work on their project. Bex is absent today (something Sugar will soon discover is a trend for them), but Cam is walking over to Baby’s desk and Sugar joins her. They spend the last 20 minutes of class coming up with ideas for the project and setting up a time to work on it outside of school.

At the ring of the bell, they all gather their stuff, and Sugar promises to get Bex’s number. She grabs her lunch from her locker on the way to the cafeteria and eats quickly when she gets there. As soon as she finishes, she starts searching around campus. She checks the hallways closest to the cafeteria first, then moves on to the courtyard. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, she catches a glimpse of tan skin and red hair on the south end of campus, their slim figure hunched against the wall.

“Hey! Bex!” Sugar shouts. They startle, tensing into a braced position. She walks closer to them and squats down. “Are you alright?” When they recognize her voice, they relax.

“Uh. Y-yeah, I’m fine.” But the words come out shaky and rough, and even Bex themself doesn’t sound convinced. Sugar raises an eyebrow, but they aren’t looking at her, only at the ground by their feet.

“You don’t sound fine,” she says, reaching out to touch their arm but pulling back when Bex flinches.

They stand up haltingly, still not looking at her (the way they angle their head seems like they’re trying to hide an injury), and say in a steadier voice, “Yes. I’m fine.” Sugar sees them start to walk away and panics for a second.

“W-wait. Hey!” They stop walking. “I—I need your number. For the project. We’re meeting this Thursday. 4 pm.” She jogs up to them and hands over her phone. “You can make it, right?” she asks as they punch in their number into her contacts with slightly trembling hands. She sees them nod. “Okay, great!” She hesitates with her next question, but she needs to ask. “Are you… are you sure you’re okay? You’re shaking. Please, don’t lie to me.”

They don’t move. It’s like time is frozen for this second, as they both stand, Bex with their hood sheltering their expression, and Sugar waiting for them to respond.

“It’s nothing. Really.” They hand Sugar her phone. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

——————————

“Girls! Your friends are here!” Baby’s mom calls from the kitchen as the doorbell rings. Sugar and Baby share a look and get up to answer the door. They rush downstairs, and Baby throws open the door at the sight of Cameron and Bex.

“Hey guys!” she says, and Sugar watches as Bex nods tensely. “Come on in. My room’s upstairs; there’s also snacks in the kitchen because my mom’s like that,” Baby informs, rolling her eyes. As Baby walks away, Cam and Sugar regard each other with a passing “hey,” and Bex just nods at her as they step into Baby’s house. After a few minutes, they’re all gathered in various spots around Baby’s room (Sugar and Baby on Baby’s bed, Cam sitting cross-legged on the carpet, and Bex sitting stiffly on the stairs that lead to the balcony), and are ready to work on the project.

“Oh!” Sugar exclaims, realizing that she never introduced Bex to Cam and Baby. Seeing everyone looking at her, she elaborates. “We mostly know each other already, but Bex left early the class where we made our group, and well, yeah. So, we should do an introduction game!” She pauses, thinking. “Say your name, favorite hobby, and favorite… I dunno, line from a Shakespearean play, I guess?” An idea dawns on her, and she adds, “Oh! And pronouns.” Everyone nods, and Bex makes a face that’s caught between nervous and appreciative. Sugar looks away. “I’ll go first! I’m Sugar,” she shimmies her shoulders for personality before continuing. “She/her pronouns, my hobby is…singing, I guess? Oh! And I can’t pick a favorite line, but my favorite Shakespeare play is ‘Taming of the Shrew,’” she finishes, with a perfectly cringe-worthy pair of finger guns. She signals to Baby to go next.

“Aight. I’m Baby, she/her, and I love singing! My favorite scene, because I can’t pick a line either, is the Macbeth scene where Lady Macbeth is sleepwalking trying to get blood off her hands,” she says. After a pause, she tacks on, “I just realized how dark that sounded,” and a chuckle goes around the loose circle. “Cam? You wanna go next?”

Cameron shrugs. “Sure. I’m Cameron, but I prefer Cam; I’m fine with any pronouns, but she/her's fine, I guess. My hobby is dancing. I’m not a big fan of Shakespeare, but some of the more famous monologues are pretty interesting,” she shrugs then looks at Bex with raised eyebrows.

Bex’s shoulders raise to their ears, but their voice is steady (albeit quiet) when they speak. “I’m Bex. My hobby’s… guitar. Or music in general. I like making remixes. Writing, too.” Pensive, they resume with, “I guess the ‘what’s in a name’ lines are pretty cool.”

When they don’t continue, Sugar prompts, “Pronouns?”

“Oh. Uh. Um—th—” They don’t seem to know what to say. Or whether they should say what they want to, it seems like.  
“You know we won’t judge, right?” Sugar says, and Cam and Baby nod in support.  
“...Sure. Uh. They/them?” Bex answers, but it sounds like a question. “But he/him around other people? …I don’t know. I really just…” they sigh, trailing off. “Yeah.”

“Alright! That’s cool.” Sugar breathes in, then out, and sees Bex do the same. “Now that that’s out of the way… let’s get down to business!” In unison, to everyone’s surprise (including Bex), Baby and Bex start singing “Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan, and Sugar and Cameron join in. They don’t get very far, as they only know some of the lyrics, but it’s fun, and it eases the tension. For the next hour and a half, they work on the project. Though they’re not efficient due to frequent sidetracking, with their combined ideas, they get all of the brainstorming and outlining done by the time Baby’s mom calls everyone down for dinner.

——————————

Before Cam and Bex go, Sugar makes sure to add Bex to the group chat (which earns her a small smile from them). For some reason, there’s a twisting pang in her gut as she watches Bex leave. Maybe it’s the glimpse she caught of bruises blooming across their shoulders and neck, or their timid nature. She’s not sure, but before she can overthink it, Baby pulls her away to her room to hang out. Only a quick glance back at the retreating figures allays her anxiety.

——————————

Sugar presses closer into Baby, their bodies already shoulder to shoulder as they lie on their stomachs beneath the covers, and clicks the next quiz. They’ve been messing around on various quiz websites for the last half hour, doing random tests and stifling giggles as to not wake up Baby’s family. Somehow, they’ve managed to come to a “can we guess your sexuality” quiz, which honestly? Is pretty stupid, but it’s late and who cares anyway. They start clicking through the questions, which are based almost completely on stereotypes, Sugar immediately identifies. It’s more funny than it is annoying, though. _And they’re not really wrong_ , she thinks, looking at the word “lesbian” displayed across the screen in big, black font.

She chuckles, looking at Baby. “Think they can guess my dream girl, too?” In retrospect, she’ll find later, this is somewhat of a suggestive thing, the way she says it. But it’s looking like it won’t matter, because Baby’s gaze is still stuck on the screen showing Sugar’s results, her eyes glazed. “...Uh, you good?”

Baby starts. “Oh! Yeah, sure! I’m fine.” She looks at Sugar then looks away. “So… are you actually,” she makes a vague gesture with her hands that Sugar can only decipher to be pointing to the screen, “like, you know. Or is the test just being BS?” She looks strangely nervous. It makes Sugar nervous, too.

“A lesbian?” She tries not to notice when Baby flinches a little at the word. “Yeah, I like girls. That doesn’t bother you, right?” Though she’s still a little irked, she watches with amusement as Baby’s eyes widen to saucers.  
“No! No! Of course not! I would never—”

“Oh my god, it’s fine, Baby.” Sugar rolls her eyes, cutting off the other girl’s frantic whisper rambling.

“Uh… right. Sorry,” Baby chuckles nervously. There’s a pause. “So… have you—do you like anyone?”

Sugar debates in her head for a while before answering. “Yeah, I do.” She looks away, not wanting Baby to see her face. She’s worried about what her expression might betray. Though she can hear the unspoken question on Baby’s tongue, _who?_ , she doesn’t continue. She does, however, begin to question Baby about her crush, because clearly, she hates herself. “Why talk about that when we can talk about a certain someone else, though? Brown hair, temperamental, plays guitar…” She giggles (does it only sound forced to her?) when Baby starts to sputter.

“Or how about we don’t talk about him? It’s not like I like him!” Baby’s pulling at straws. She’s so obvious.

“Haha, yeah right.” _Then tell me why it hurts so much? Tell me why,_ she thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. But in place of the words, she feels a tingle in the back of her throat. She coughs heavily into her hand. When she pulls away, there’s a single yellow petal. An iris.

She frantically stumbles out of Baby’s bed and into the bathroom with her fist clenched around the petal, ignoring Baby’s concerned calls after her. She slams the door shut behind her and locks it, collapsing over the toilet as she catches her breath.

Baby’s footsteps halt at the door, her voice hesitant as she asks, “Are you okay, Sugar?”

 _No, I’m really not. I’m coughing up flowers, in fact, because I’m in love with you,_ she thinks. “I’m fine,” she says instead; her voice comes out hoarser and more out of breath than she would like. She tries to quiet her panting, but another wave of coughing comes, and this time there’s 2 petals floating in the toilet water.

“You don’t sound fine.” _Of course._ It’s karma, Sugar supposes, for her conversation with Bex the other day.

“Really, I’m alright. It’s just a cough. I’ll be out in a minute.” She pushes herself up from the floor, leaning against the wall for support.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” As she says this, an image of Baby rubbing her back as she coughs flowers into the toilet flashes in her mind. She manages to suppress the cough this time.

“Yes,” she grits out, trying (and failing) not to sound strained.

“...Okay.” Sugar listens to her footsteps as she walks away. When she can’t hear them anymore, she slumps against the wall and sighs heavily. She looks at the petal still pressed into her palm, then to the ones in the toilet.

Oh god. What is she going to do? _What is she going to do?_

——————————

“Hey!! You both better wake up right now!”

The voice (Angel’s, Sugar thinks, though she’s not sure) is too loud in Sugar’s ears, even though she can vaguely tell it’s coming from outside Baby’s room. When she tries to open her eyes, she’s bombarded by the bright light streaming in through the window, and she has to close them again. Next to her (pressed up against her, actually), Baby stirs. A tingle makes itself known in Sugar’s throat at the realization that they’re snuggling. She manages to hold it down. Barely.

“Huh? What…” God, Sugar forgot how cute Baby is when she’s waking up. Not a good time to remember. She coughs, but no petals escape into her hand. _Good_ , she thinks.

Angel bangs on Baby’s door again. “You have to get up! Sugar’s dad called; she needs to get home. It’s already 2 pm.”

Baby sits straight up. “Wait, what?! _2 pm?!_ ”

“Guess that’s what happens when you stay up until 3 in the morning doing dumb stuff on the internet.” Sugar shrugs, masking her cringe from the burning in her throat when she speaks. “I should probably get dressed now,” she says quietly to Baby. Louder, she shouts to Angel through the door, “Alright! We’ll be down in a few minutes, and I’ll leave.”

“M’kay. Mom made pancakes if you want any. A pile’s sitting on the counter in the kitchen,” Angel says then leaves.

After a few minutes, both girls are ready and head downstairs. (Baby changes in the bathroom instead of her bedroom. Away from Sugar, when she would normally change clothes around her. She tries not to think it’s related to her coming out. It probably is.) Sugar grabs a pancake from the tray and walks to the door, and Baby does the same. They both falter for a second at the door. Sugar tries not to let her hurt show when their hug is the most awkward they’ve ever had. She holds her cough behind a smile until she’s out of the door. She holds her tears behind that smile until she’s home and in her room. She holds a yellow petal in her hand until her nails pressing into her palm finally break skin, and then she rips it to shreds. As much as she wishes she could delude herself into believing it’s fine, all she can think is, _this sucks._

——————————

The next time they see each other is English class. “It could be worse,” is about the most positive thing she can afford their situation. The flowers that she flushes down the toilet after the class speak for themselves about what the worst is.

Though they don’t avoid each other, there’s a tension lingering in their interactions, even in a group (it makes the next meeting for their ELA project very difficult, although they’re able to read Romeo & Juliet just fine in class). She tries her best to ignore it, to suppress the prickling in her throat. It works about half the time. Maybe less—no, definitely less—if she counts the pieces of stem and small bits smothered by tissues as well as the sobbing in the bathroom over a toilet bowl filled to the brim with yellow iris petals. Yeah, not fun. And it only gets worse from there as her Hanahaki (as she learned it’s called when she researched the disease sometime after her and Baby’s sleepover) is triggered more frequently by indirect means, and the near-constant coughing is difficult to hide from her friends, causing them to start to question her. She lies through her teeth. It hurts a little to say that she’s getting good at it.

Bex, who she gets closer within the time after the sleepover, is about the only one who doesn’t question her or treat her like a piece of glass. It’s repayment for not asking about things like the black eyes and the other bruises. Not because she doesn’t want to, she desperately wishes she could find a way to help, but she learns quickly that Bex shuts off the moment anyone tries. So she stops. And she also has her own, very pressing dilemma.

It’s 3 weeks after the sleepover—3 weeks of Baby and Sugar avoiding eye-contact like their lives depend on it (maybe in Sugar’s case it’s true), 3 weeks of hoping maybe the tension will melt only to find that the iceberg between them is growing—when Sugar coughs up her first full flower. According to the forums, it means she doesn’t have much time left. It only takes a few seconds before she gives up and lets herself cry, slumped over the toilet in the second bathroom stall, until half an hour after the final bell rings. She’s so drained that it’s a struggle to stand up and make her way to the sink to wash her face, but she manages to get out of the bathroom eventually. She wanders toward the auditorium with dragging feet, sinking into her hoodie. She hears a voice when she opens the door. It sounds like Baby (oh god) and when she looks for the source she finds that it… actually _is_ Baby ( _oh god_ ), who is currently sweeping the floor in the aisles. She freezes where she stands in the back of the room. Then she hears the song Baby’s singing.

_/ ...she’s an entire galaxy of stars, too far for me to revolve around /_

And she doesn’t know what possesses her in that moment, she should be running out, _away_ , but she starts singing, too.

_/ but close enough to admire, and bright enough to drown /_

Maybe it’s because she’s lonely, because she misses her best friend. Maybe it’s because it’s a good song.

_/ she’s a dream, oh /_

Either way, her heart rate is spiking as she walks towards Baby, still singing along softly.

_/ just a dream, oh /_

It hurts her throat a little (read: it feels like there are flaming thorns embedded in the flesh of her throat), but her voice comes out relatively unscratchy. She hopes she doesn’t look like she’s been crying. She probably does.

_/ the real her is hidden by a blanket of my fantasies /_

It’s only when she’s just a few feet away that Baby finally turns to see her. The alarm on her face is almost comical. It hits like a punch to the stomach for Sugar to watch all the emotions that fly across Baby’s face. It never really settles as she leans her broom across a seat and mumbles, “Hey.” She doesn’t look at Sugar.

“Hey.” Her voice cracks. Loudly and painfully obvious. She sees Baby snort and starts giggling. Baby joins in. It sounds a little like heaven. And feels a little like the opposite, because she knows this will never last. But for now, they’re both doubling over in laughter over the tiniest thing, and it’s...nice. It’s been so long since she’s felt this close to happy.

Eventually they calm down, and Sugar takes the chance to ask, “What are you doing in here so late?”

“Ah. My teacher told me she’d give me extra credit if I helped clean the auditorium. And I didn’t really have anything better to do.” She shrugs picking the broom up and starting to sweep again. “What about you?” The way she eyes Sugar’s face sends a little trickle of anxiety shooting up her spine. She definitely looks like she’s been crying.

“My last teacher had me stay behind to finish a project, and then I didn’t really feel like leaving campus, so I’ve been wandering around.” She shrugs, a slightly tense mimic of Baby. Time to change the subject. “So… Dani Quartz, huh?”

Baby looks a little lost for a second before recognition flashes over her face like lightning, and she starts. “Oh! The song! Yeah… it’s a good song.” She looks away from Sugar a little, and the tips of her ears are red. “Good artist, too. She has a nice voice. Too bad she isn’t more popular.”

“Totally! Is ‘Dream’ your favorite song of hers? How’d you find her?” She never gets to talk about this artist. She’s excited. And also a little confused as to why Baby listens to her, considering her music is all very obviously sapphic. But excited nonetheless.

“Uh, I guess? I think I saw some post about her somewhere and wanted to listen to her music. I dunno. I kinda ended up going down a rabbit hole.”  
“Mood.” Baby smiles at her. Sugar smiles back. The tingle of flowers in her lungs still lingers, as it always does, but for now, she isn’t coughing.

They both pause for a second, still smiling and making eye-contact.

“I’m bi.” The admission is sudden, but Baby continues before Sugar can respond. “...I think. I don’t know. I kind of started questioning after you came out to me. And, yeah.” Oh. _Oh._

Sugar’s smile widens involuntarily, full and bright by the time Baby finishes speaking. “Oh! Okay, cool.” Baby’s bi. That explains… a lot. In a good way. They both stand awkwardly for a second before Sugar asks, “Do you want any help cleaning?”

“Sure!” Baby stutters a little. “That’d be great! I think there’s an extra broom in the closet in the back.” Sugar sets her bag in a seat and walks to the closet, where she finds the broom sitting in the corner, and heads back over to where Baby has already moved on to sweeping the stage. She decides to sweep the area beneath the stage. As she lets herself get lost in the rhythmic sound of their brooms sweeping in tandem, she begins to sing again, picking up from where they left off in ‘Dream.’

_/ she’s peaches and sunbeams /_

She hears Baby’s footsteps and sweeping come to a halt.

_/ she’s everything i want to be /_

After a second, Baby joins in singing.

_/ but beneath the confectioner’s sugar /_

The blend of their voices, more comfortable and in-sync than before, is familiar. It’s nostalgic, a little. Bittersweet.

_/ she’s only a warped memory /_

They sing the rest of the song, adding extra melodic bits and harmonies as they move around the room and finish the last of the cleaning. There’s just enough euphoria, rich warmth and satisfaction, to keep the flowers inside Sugar’s lungs. It makes the bittersweet a little less bitter. Even as they close out the last chorus, both on stage together as if they were performing, the impression of joy remains.

After it’s over, this sort of conversation passes between them, between their eyes, as they smile at each other. Not a coherent one in any sense of the word; there’s no distinct thoughts conveyed. Nothing solid. But it’s enough.

She breaks the silence with, “Wanna go get some shakes at Allen’s?”

Baby smiles widens. “Sure!”

——————————

The two girls sit at the white marble counter of Allen’s Shakehouse with a basket of fries sitting between them, the contents of which are disappearing at an alarming rate, and sip their shakes. They’re talking about Dani Quartz’ newest album, ‘Candy Girl,’ fangirling together over their favorite songs. Baby currently is going on a tangent about the original version of the second song on the album (titled Manta Ray, but having almost nothing to do with fish), saying something about being sad a certain lyric was changed, but Sugar’s spaced out, staring at Baby as she talks animatedly. The only intervals between the other girl’s rant are when she pauses to take a gulp of her Oreo smoothie, before setting it back down and continuing.

“...you know what I mean?”   

Sugar only catches the tail end of the question, so she pulls her straw out of her mouth where it’s resting idly, and smiles. “Totally,” she says, pretending she was listening instead of being a useless pining lesbian.

Baby smiles back, brighter than the sun. _I’m too gay for this,_ Sugar thinks. “Besides,” Baby continues, “the rest of the album is too good for me to be mad. I mean, I could listen to ‘Flickering’ all day. Her voice is so emotional in that one, but somehow she still manages to make it sound melodic and like, melancholy. How does she even?”

“I know, right? I can only dream of being that good,” she says, smiling as she rests her cheek on her palm. She side-eyes Baby. “You’re not too far, though.”

She blushes in response, bringing the straw of her smoothie to her mouth and taking a long drink before she sets the cup down. “Thanks.” Short, warm, and genuine.

Their conversation pauses as they drink their shakes and finish the basket of fries. Baby’s blush is calming, but the way the pink lingers on her cheeks reminds Sugar of the sweetness of the strawberry milkshake she holds in her hand. She wonders what Baby would taste like right now, if they kissed. Probably like Oreo’s, realistically, maybe a little like dreams and flowers and everything she’s ever wanted, the way she sees it in her head. Well, she’d probably taste like everything she’s ever wanted regardless. _But I can’t have her._

The thought feels like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut all in one, coming from the place of safety and bliss that has sheltered her since she and Baby sang together. All the pain, all the burning, all the aching of _I can’t have you, I’ll never have you, you’re too beautiful to be tied down by me, you’ll never love me back, you love him, you’d hate me if you knew_ congregates in Sugar’s throat, the petals already threatening to spill out. She looks back at Baby, one last glimpse through her tears, and dashes toward the bathroom. (Baby, in that moment, sees a broken girl. She sees guilt, and fear, and anguish. It hurts, _physically hurts_ , to remember her face. Who did that to her? Who thinks they have the _right_ to break her best friend?)

The linoleum is cold against Sugar’s legs through the rips of her jeans, but it does nothing to cool her burning body. The toilet bowl is filling, faster and faster, with yellow petals. They’re ugly, too bright, too happy. _You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here._ They burn her eyes, set on fire with the rest of her. _She’ll never love you._ She coughs heavily, and 3 more blood-covered petals spill out,, her tears chasing after them into the porcelain. She can’t hear anything. Her head is beyond swimming; she’s so dizzy that she would just fall if she tried to stand. But she doesn’t, she can’t, because she’s tied to the toilet by her disease. By her love. _Who knew love could be so fatal?_

The door bursts open, crashing against the tile wall. “Sugar!!”

She doesn’t look up. She can only detachedly think, _Shoot, I forgot to lock the door._ She’s too far from her body, locked in the prison of pain, to do anything else.

Hands press against her back and pull her limp body into a hug. “Oh god are you—” Baby’s question is cut off by Sugar’s cough. 5 petals. It’s only then that Baby notices the toilet and the wreath of fallen flowers surrounding it. She turns back to Sugar with wide eyes. “Sugar?”

“Mmm-hm?” Sugar coughs. Smiles dazedly, wryly. Coughs again. 2 petals. A leaf.

Baby looks like she’s going to cry.

“Don’t worry. It’s just—” 1 petal, “—hanahaki.” The rough sound of her own voice grates on her nerves, despite barely being able to hear it. Speaking is like rubbing sandpaper in her throat. “It’ll… be over, soon. You don’t have to worry.”

Baby only looks more panicked at this. “Hanahaki? Like, that weird, obscure disease where you cough up flowers when you’re in unrequited love??” When Sugar doesn’t answer, she shakes her. “Who? Who—”

She cuts herself off at the look on Sugar’s face. It says everything.

Baby recoils. Sugar just falls against the toilet. _She thought she was prepared for everything, huh. Well, guess what. It’s you. These flowers are for you._ If she could, Sugar would laugh at the irony of that statement. Flowers of love, but they’re soaked in blood. Blue eyes, looking at her with so much concern in care, but the tears are just guilt. Guilt and nothing more.

“I-I. How?”

“How could I not fall in love with you?” she croaks out, sardonic smile stuck in place like her life depends on it. Maybe it does.

“No! How could you think I don’t like you back?!” Sugar stares at her with a slack jaw, dumbfounded. She’s delirious, right? She has to be.

“You… ?”

“I like you!” The ferocity in Baby’s voice surprises Sugar. The way she says it, with so much conviction, wards off the thoughts of “it’s just pity” before they can begin to swarm Sugar’s head. _She likes me._

“You… like me?”

Baby nods.

Sugar looks at the yellow irises, and back at the other girl. She has no idea what to do with that. So she just stares. And then, bubbling up from her throat, is a laugh. It wiggles its way out of her mouth, bright without any edge to it despite the situation. It escalates, and they both end up doubling over with laughter on the blood-and-petal covered tiles with tears in their eyes. They forget what they’re laughing about by the time they’ve calmed down, but the first thing Sugar notices is that she feels like she can breathe again. She looks over at Baby, who’s smiling softly at her. They both blush as they hold eye-contact.

“Can I…?”

She can’t tell who moves first; she just feels soft lips against her own. The kiss is brief and light. Without a pause, they kiss again, longer this time. Their noses bump against each other, and their tears smear together, but it’s the fullest Sugar’s felt since the flowers started growing in her lungs. Flowers that are now gone, their only remnants laureling the floor around her and Baby. She doesn’t look at them, only at Baby. _Why count petals when I can count everything I love about you instead?_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments/kudos/bookmarks are greatly appreciated <3


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